Castle in the Moonlight
by Aoi Dragon
Summary: New York City is hit by a murder that looks like it's been done by a "vampire." Castle and Beckett investigate and meet a strange PI from LA. ONE SHOT.


A flowing translucent red scarf falls from the fire escape above, slowly drifting downwards until it catches the wind and blows down the alley. Two limp, feminine hands hang between the bars, fingers frozen in place holding an apple, showing it to the night sky. The woman is young, dark haired and wrapped in several blood red scarves up to the neck. There are two puncture wounds on her wrist.

 **Castle opening sequence with clouds billowing away, uncovering the moon above New York City.**

The other cops took pictures of the body as Detective Kate Beckett watched the Medical Examiner. He swabbed at the puncture wounds, "Of course that's how she died. Punctured an artery and bled out, but not here, elsewhere. Then the perp wrapped her up nice and cozy and put her out here."

"What about the apple?" Beckett asked.

"it's one of those plastic imitations," The ME said, "Nothing on it that I could see, but I'll bag it just in case."

"Any signs of sexual assault?"

"Still has her white panties on, but that doesn't mean the bastard didn't put them back on once she stopped bleeding," He answered, "but I'll run a rape kit. If it comes back positive, we'll have to hand the case to SVU."

Beckett scowled and stared at the frozen hands still holding the fake apple, "Why does that look familiar?" She murmured to herself.

"Maybe because it's on the cover of a famous book for tweens," Said a voice behind her.

Beckett stiffened and whirled around to glare, "Castle."

"What? Did I scare you? Use my neat novelist techniques to sneak up on you?" The writer gave her a lop-sided grin.

"Castle..." Beckett growled.

"Oh, right. Body," He looked almost giddy, " _Twilight_."

"What?"

" _Twilight_. You know, it's all the rage with lots of teenage girls," Castle said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Has vampires, werewolves, and angsting teenage girls," He made a face, "Even Steven King called it a pile of horse hooey, and I tend to agree with him, but the girls love it."

"And you know this... how?" Beckett arched an eyebrow.

The novelist did his best to try not to look guilty, "Alexis... she read one... or two... look, the story was ridiculously addicting, like my ex-wife, only with less sex."

The detective rolled her eyes, "Right. So what's the connection between -" She trailed off, noticing a man in a dark coat walking out of the alley, "Stay here."

Beckett climbed down the fire escape and got to the ground just as the man turned the corner out of the alley. She sprinted after him, checking to make sure her gun was at her hip. When she rounded the corner, nothing. Nothing but an empty street. Her eyes swept down the street both ways, but she couldn't see anyone.

"Looking for me?" A smooth voice said behind her said, and she jumped as her hand went to her gun. Beckett spun around to see a handsome young man, perhaps in his early thirties, with dark, wavy grown hair and hazel eyes. He put his hands up, "Woah, easy. I didn't mean to startle you."

She narrowed her eyes, "Who are you?"

"I'm Mick St. John, a private investigator," He said, taking his credentials from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed them to the detective.

Beckett examined his identification, shining her flashlight at the picture, then at the man himself before giving a nod and handing them back, "What's an LA PI doing all the way on the East Coast?"

"Let's just say my third party friend has some secrets that he'd like to keep hidden," St. John took his credentials and put them back in his pocket, "It's nothing illegal, but because of his social standing he has many... enemies." He paused for a moment, eyes trailing back towards the alley, "Also, something similar happened in LA about two years ago. You may have heard about it: 'Vampire Slaying Rocks LA'?"

Beckett furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to remember, "That headline doesn't ring a bell."

"Well, it wasn't exactly in the big time papers until the killer was caught. It ended up a TA of the Mythological Anthropology department got a little too involved in the cult his professor led," St. John said with a slight wince, "Two innocent girls died because they wanted to charge the professor with sexual assault."

"Huh... I'll have to look that up and see if the MO is similar," The detective nodded, "We don't want a copycat."

"Yeah. Here's my card with my cell number on it," St. John handed her a card that said: 'Mick St. John, Private Investigator.' It had his LA address and his cell phone number, "I'll see you later."

Beckett stared at the card for a moment, "But where -" When she look up, he was gone. Completely gone. Weird.

"Hey, Beckett," Castle sauntered up from the alley, "Why so serious?"

"Shut up, Castle," She glowered before turning the PI's card over in her hands, "I just met the strangest man. Mick St. John," She handed the card to Castle and he examined it with gleeful curiousness.

"Los Angeles? What's he doing all the way out here?" The novelist asked upon seeing the address.

"I asked him the same thing, and apparently there's third party interest in this murder, but how that person heard about it I don't know."

"Police scanner," Castle frowned at the card, "It's the most obvious way to know what's going on with the cops."

"Yeah, right," Beckett rolled her eyes, "So, this PI said that something like this happened in LA, so we might be dealing with a copycat."

The writer's eyes lit up, "Ooo! What a twist! There've been other killings like this?"

"Yes. Two college students two years ago. I don't have the particulars, but I'm going to look up the articles tonight."

"Beckett!" The ME called from down the alley.

"Yeah?" The detective started heading back towards the fire escape.

Once she got closer, the ME continued, "There's scarring on the forearm, like she was bitten by something and then what ever bit her kneaded at the wound."

"Can you tell what the bite was from?" Beckett asked.

"Do I look like a zoologist to you?" He asked. The detective didn't answer, "No, I can't tell. I doubt a zoologist could either. Looks like she's been bitten many times by the same thing. It's right near a main vein too. I'm surprised she didn't bleed to death because of it."

"So... we're talking vampires?" Castle asked. He could barely contain his excitement of dealing with something that was supposed to be supernatural.

"Considering the puncture wounds - which weren't caused by teeth, by the way - the scars, and your connection of the apple in the hands to those vampire novels, I'd say so... a wannabe, at least."

A grin spread across Castle's face, "Dracula, here we come."


End file.
